I don't think this is the Shadow Realm
by Aviusa
Summary: Yugioh Lotr crossover. When Atemu attempts to get rid of Bakura for good, he accidentally sends both Anzu and Ryou to Middle Earth.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Parvessa and Anei created this together for your enjoyment. Please tell us what you liked about it, so that we may do better next time.

Unwanted complications

Bakura gasped, and stumbled backward, wondering vaguely how he'd gotten himself into this. The last thing he remembered, the Pharaoh had been trying to banish him again, and now he was here in this huge stone... cave. Not only that but he wasn't alone. For the first time, the Pharaoh had banished Ryou along with him, and he certainly wasn't in the shadow realm.

He sighed, and shoved Ryou's hair away from his face. First things first: where was he, and what was there here that he could use? As he had already noted, he was inside a huge stone cavern, lit by torches in holders along the walls. The walls of the cavern were pretty natural, but the floor had obviously been smoothed. The real problem was that it sounded like there was a battle going on. A scream echoed down the tunnels, and Bakura nodded grimly. Yes, there was definitely a battle of some sort going on.

The muffled shriek from behind him made him spin around, silently cursing himself for his carelessness. If he had missed something like that before, he would have been dead. At the sight of the dancer that hung around the Pharaoh, however, his eyes widened against his will. What was she doing here? Surely the Pharaoh wouldn't have angered his hikari by banishing her along with him.

The girl cringed backwards away from him, and he remembered that he had dropped his pretence of being Ryou when the Pharaoh had confronted him. Well, he could either rectify that now, or he could actually allow Ryou to have his body back for a while. His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered, watching the cringing girl, before he decided that at this point his allowing Ryou to take control would put their body in danger.

"Come, girl," he ordered, reaching over to catch her wrist in one hand and grabbing a torch with the other.

Anzu yanked backward, almost pulling herself out of his grasp. "What are you doing?" her voice was breathy, and slightly frightened, but she was making a good attempt at acting normal. "Let go of me!"

It took more effort than he wanted to admit to prevent himself from snapping at her. The only thing that stopped him was the realization that the sounds he had heard earlier were getting closer, and arguing with her would only slow him down. "I want to get out of here before whatever's causing havoc out there decides to come in here." he finally said, trying for a mild tone.

After a few tense moments, as he kept glancing backwards, and she seemed to be wavering between her fear of him and her fear of the unknown, she relaxed, and allowed herself to be led further in to the cavern. He scanned the cavern as they went, knowing that the best way to keep them alive would be to find a hiding place. Eventually he spotted a dark hollow that looked promising, and headed purposefully toward that wall.

If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have walked right past the crevice. The long fracture ran right up the wall of the cavern, and was just large enough to shelter two people inside it. He steered Anzu into it first, and then slipped in behind her, dropping Ryou's backpack at his feet and settling himself into a comfortable position leaning against the stone. Warmth radiated from the body behind him, filling the small space. It was only now that he was finally warm, that he realized just how cold it was in this place.

Shouting echoed closer, and Bakura winced as a severed arm went flying past his hiding place to fall against the wall, blood splattering across the floor in its path. Anzu gasped behind him, and pressed closer to him, obviously feeling that it was safer with someone who she knew, even if he was trying to kill her best friend, than it was to be alone in the middle of a fight. Bakura turned slightly to wrap an arm around her waist, hoping she would have the self-control to keep quiet.

Twisted monsters had come into sight, and Bakura wondered absently what kind of Duel Monsters they were. They didn't look like anything he knew, certainly, except maybe some of the fiends. At any rate, they weren't using any type of magic that he could see. The mêlée was more like a brawl than the ordered skirmish that Duel Monsters waged, and the creatures that the monsters were battling looked, for the most part, like ordinary humans. Most of the damage to the fiendish monsters was being done by what was definitely a dwarf, though Bakura couldn't think what card it was. There really wasn't anything he could do without revealing what he was, though. It still seemed as if the best thing to do was to simply stay where he was and make sure Anzu stayed quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

Forty-two

My axe fell on another cursed orc head. "40" I let out a short breath of air, the only amusing part of this grim business. Not that I wasn't deriving an immense amount of amusement from lopping the heads of such wretched things as orcs are, contrarily, it was the loss of the life of the innocent that drew a dark gloom over my heart. "41," I swung again, it seemed that every time one fell that another one would replace him before the last breath left his comrade's body. Blood staining my wearied arms and legs I pressed deeper into the fray.

A particularly sturdy orc set himself in my path. Swinging at him, however, my axe was turned away by his collar armor, off balanced it took me a second too long to bring up my weapon once more and I received a bloody knock to the head. With a roar I laid on to the orc twice as madly as before, beginning quickly to feel rather giddy, but not lessening my attack even a single blow.

After a few minutes intensified fray I found myself closely pressed to a crevice in the wall, and as I felt the rock closing in on my two sides I felt a unfamiliar twinge of closeness as the orc swung harder at me once more and my bravado quickly swept out and away from me. I was going to die. The aching of my head doubled and I resigned myself to the last few seconds of fight.

Suddenly the head was gone, the sweaty face of a man of Rohan replacing it, sword stopped momentarily after its killing stroke. Nodding my thanks I wasted no time to dive out once more to where the fray had been. It wasn't there anymore. Orc and human bodies lay piled everywhere, a few letting out piteous moans, surrounded by haggard and warn men barely on their feet.

Running a hand through my now blood matted hair I tried to consider what to do next through a pounding headache and suddenly everyone in the cavern was staring at some space over my left shoulder. Turning slowly my first thought is their must be some other force waiting for us, some orc rabble or other. Instead, I witnessed the proud entry of a white haired young man out of the crevice I had just been trapped in.

"Who are you?" I asked when no body moved for several long seconds, taking several decisive steps forward. I was greeted by a look that clearly showed that he didn't understand. I repeated myself slower, losing some of my patience, why had this lack wit been permitted onto the battle field? And a girl as well, who didn't understand me either by the looks of it, had just appeared, petrified, from behind him. They didn't even look like any kind of locals either, and their clothing was foreign to me.

"Perhaps I can help." A man, specific name unknown to me, had come up beside me and had observed their silence. "Their appearance is strange to me, but I think I can communicate with them." I stepped back, picking at some dried blood in my beard. "You should be getting that looked to." He added, catching sight of the side of my head, apparently worse then it felt considering the flicker of disgust that quivered over his face before he turned away.

"Just a scratch," I muttered gruffly, but took his advice and walked off in search for something to wrap my head with.


	3. Chapter 3

No progress

Ryou blinked in surprise as he was suddenly thrust back into control. He had been wondering what was going on, since normally his yami would have been sent to the Shadow Realm by now, and especially so since he had felt Atemu's magic some time ago. Wait a second; where was he?

_I don't know. See if you can make some sense of this, yadonushi._ Well, that was definitely Bakura._ I would advise you not to look at the floor._ His yami added as an afterthought.

_What? _Of course, since Bakura had mentioned it, Ryou now found his gaze drawn inexorably towards the ground. His stomach roiled, and he clapped both hands over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. _What did you do yami?_ He wailed miserably, waiting for his body to settle down.

_This is none of my doing Ryou. _Bakura's voice sounded unhappy. _I don't know what the Pharaoh thought he was doing, but he ended up sending all three of us to this place, and I don't even know how to begin trying to get us back._

_He did? _Ryou did a double-take, and went over what Bakura had said. _The... three... of us?_

Dark laughter echoed in his mind. _Anzu's here, yadonushi. Now wake up and play nice with the idiot soldiers._

Ryou sighed, shoulders slumping as he opened his eyes again and glanced up at the man who was standing in front of him, clearly waiting for him to pay attention. He could hear Anzu's quick intake of breath from behind him, and glanced back to see if she was all right. "Ryou," She smiled relievedly, and latched on to his arm. "What's going on? What did Bakura do? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the hikari replied softly, feeling his face flush at the feel of her body pressed against his arm. "Bakura says Atemu sent us here somehow, and he doesn't know how to get back. Are you all right? He didn't hurt you? My yami doesn't normally pay much attention to things like that when he's distracted."

"I'm fine." A cheerful smile spread over Anzu's face. "He was really nice, getting me hidden behind him even." _I did, didn't I?_ Bakura's startled voice interrupted Ryou's already scrambled thoughts. _Strange... _"I think that man wants to talk to you, though."

"Ah, yes!" Ryou flushed in embarrassment, hand going up to his hair in his typical nervous gesture. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, giving the man a short bow, "Did you want something?"

The man spouted a stream of gibberish, and Ryou blinked. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't understand," again the man said something, but this time Ryou just shook his head. Why couldn't Atemu have sent them some place where they at least understood the language? This was embarrassing!

Finally the stranger gave up, and barked something at the other men who surrounded him. One of them came up to Ryou, who shrunk away unthinkingly at the sight of the blood on the man's chain mail shirt. He didn't understand!

This time, however, the man didn't try to talk with him, simply gestured for him to follow and walked off. Anzu shifted her grip on him to his hand, and not knowing what else to do, Ryou followed. He shivered slightly as a group of men detached themselves from the main group to surround them, but Bakura wouldn't let them hurt him. His yami needed their body too, after all.

They passed through long tunnels, and Ryou's fear began to fade as they moved through the seemingly endless line of corridors. Finally they came out of the tunnel and stumbled onto a scene even more gruesome than the last one. Ryou's vision tunneled and he heard a snarl from Bakura a moment before he was thrown into his soul room once again. _Sleep... _Bakura told him softly, and Ryou didn't fight the command.


	4. Chapter 4

Food at last

Fear and disgust mixed in Anzu's mind, and she winced away from the scene of carnage in front of her, glancing at Ryou to see how he was taking it. Only, when she looked, it wasn't Ryou beside her. Apparently the British boy hadn't managed to deal with what was happening to him, and had allowed his yami to take over for him. She fought down a brief stab of envy, wishing that she could disclaim responsibility like he had.

There was blood everywhere. She had thought that the cave had been bloody and disgusting, but this was much worse. Everywhere she looked there was blood, severed body parts, dead bodies, or wounded people. Men dragged bodies away, and helped the wounded stagger off, but for there were just too many bodies. She shuddered and moved closer to Bakura. At least she'd never seen him kill anyone.

Their escort led them through the bodies, and into a small room. Once they were inside, the man left, joining the other men outside the room. She heard a lock click as the door closed, and shivered as she realized that they were prisoners. What was going to happen to her now?

A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked over to find Ryou smiling at her reassuringly. "It'll be all right." He told her. "Just try to sleep, okay?" He gestured towards the bed in the corner. "We'll keep watch and make sure you're all right."

"How can I sleep after _that_?" Anzu felt tears spring to her eyes, and turned away, hiding her face from Ryou's sympathetic gaze. "All right, but you should sleep too. _He_ won't let anyone hurt you, right?"

"Right." Ryou nodded, and then looked towards the door. Anzu blinked in surprise, wondering what he was looking for, until the door opened and someone brought a loaf of bread and a leather bag in, handed them to Ryou and stepped out again. Ryou's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the bag, but a moment later Anzu decided she must have imagined it, as Ryou smiled happily and broke the bread in half.

"There you are!" His voice was cheerful, and she saw in disbelief that he didn't look worried at all. Automatically, she took the bread he offered her, and brought it to her lips. "We'll be all right now, see?" He pulled a plug out of the leather bag, and lifted it to his lips, tilting it so a stream of water poured into his mouth.

Chewing the tough bread slowly, Anzu watched him, wondering how he could be so happy in a place like this. Surely Bakura hadn't forced him into situations like this before. Even he couldn't have managed to find a group of cutthroats this big back in Japan.

Ryou handed her the flask, and she tilted it up, trying to imitate what Ryou had done, but only succeeded in pouring water all over her face. Ryou laughed softly, and she stuck her tongue out at him before trying again. This time she didn't spill so much of it on herself, and she did manage to get a mouthful, so she decided that was enough and handed it back to the laughing youth.

"How did you manage it?" she asked suspiciously, glaring at him.

"Bakura showed me how." Shoulders lifted in an embarrassed shrug, and Ryou turned away, taking a blanket from the pile at the foot of the bed and curling up with it in the corner. "Go to sleep, Anzu. Everything will be better in the morning, I'm sure."

She wasn't at all sure of that, but she picked up a blanket anyway, lying down on the bed and closing her eyes. She would have thought that after what she had seen she would have been awake all night, but all she had to do was close her eyes. The bed was so soft...


	5. Chapter 5

"Forty-two, Master Legolas!" Gimli cried as he finally exited the Deep, for the first, and hopefully last, time slightly grateful to be free of the stone, rock, and the reek of blood into the clear sunshine. "Alas! My axe is notched for the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?"

"You have passed my score by one," answered Legolas, relieved to be sure at his dear friend's life; fear had nagged at the back of his mind. "But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!"

Gimli rubbed the bandage that now stood out as a white flag on his temple. "Well nearly friend, just a good knock on the head from the last one." Turning Gimli glanced over to Gandalf, worry lines creasing his visage. "I did encounter a mighty strange thing though, two strange children. I could not communicate with them in any vocal medium."

"That is curious." Legolas replied, his own elvish features descending to serious thought. "Do you believe them to be agents of Sauron?"

"I do not think so, as they seemed just as surprised as I." Gimli countered. "They were repulsed by the dead I think." He added, recalling the look on the girl's face. "Their garb is unlike any I have ever seen."

"We should consult Gandalf quickly." Legolas came this solid conclusion quickly. "He has vast knowledge of most of what is strange to us."

"I believe he is finished with King Theoden." Gimli agreed striding quickly to Gandalf's side and involved him in a quick explanation and query.

"I shall go and see them." Gandalf nodded, agreeing with Gimli's suggestion; he immediately started back to the opening that Gimli had just exited from, with both Gimli and Legolas close behind.

Upon the entrance of the three the boy jumped up from where he had been sitting close beside the girl, his features changing so quickly that it was hard to recall how they had been, moments before, when they had entered. Blue eyes looked somewhat calculating and his white hair flaring back jaggedly from his face.

Such odd hair. Gimli wondered again if these were not some kind of angelic creature sent down for some great purpose. He had never really made any kind of study of things religious and spiritual and so, for him, there was no easy explanation; only his mother's voice somewhere in his long past childhood telling him of the creation of Middle Earth, or something like that.

"You are right about their strangeness; I do not believe I have heard of their kind in any tale from the beginning of time, though the girl, I would say, is most likely human though she be clothed in garb strange to us." Legolas commented, as they looked on Gandalf began trying several different languages, slowly slipping into dialects whose meaning was completely lost to any other's comprehension. No success.

"I have spoken in every dialect of Middle Earth and only accomplished some slight communication, I am confirmed in my beliefs that these two children are not of our world." Gandalf told Legolas and Gimli shortly after closing the prisoner's door behind them. "There still is no easy answer to how to treat them. Where did they come from? These things still elude me." He finished wearily, an absent finger running across his creased brows. "Care for anything they might need, keep them close, and do not let them out from under guard. Let us see if they smell sweet or foul and decide from there. We shall be here a while; let them prove themselves to be whatever they are."


	6. Chapter 6

Bakura sighed, letting his annoyance show on his face as he heard the locks click for the second time. He had yet to find out what they were doing here, although he had gathered that there was some kind of war going on. The battle that had finished when they had been brought here was obviously not the end of these people's war. If it was, they would have had no reason to keep guards posted, not just at their door, but all over the fortress. The sounds had woken Bakura up several times, although Ryou didn't seem to have noticed them at all, and Anzu hadn't even stirred.

At least if they were not trusted, they had not yet been awarded the status of enemies, nor were they thought of as dangerous. Of course, that did make sense under the circumstances, considering that most people here were trained for battle, and had the build to show it. Ryou might have quite a good turn of speed when he chose, but the few muscles that Bakura had managed to build up in his host's body were flat and wiry, not suited to the type of combat he had witnessed.

He gave the body back to Ryou for a while as he thought this out carefully. He had done a basic assessment of the situation last night, but now that he was rested it was time to be more thorough. They had obviously been sent to a much more primitive time then Ryou's, although he thought that the civilization was at least at the level that his own had been, and was certainly much farther along in the production of weapons. He thought, judging by the facilities – his nose wrinkled at the scent of the chamber pot in Ryou's nose – or lack of them, that he was in an age corresponding to Europe's Medieval Ages. The style of combat he had observed – based on brute strength, but with evidence of blasting fire used on the walls he had seen – bore him out on his guess, and he decided that one thing at least was certain enough to share with Ryou the next time his host asked why a thing was different from how it was at home.

Almost too certain to be mentioned was the fact that no one here spoke any language that he had ever heard – and since he had lived through the rise and fall of many of Earth's civilizations he knew quite a few. This needed to be thought through, however, as it was part of the reason why they were here. Perhaps if he had recognized one of the languages Ryou and Anzu would have been able to explain what had happened to the satisfaction of the old man, but they would certainly not be able to convince those without the aura of magic around them. He thought that for now it would most likely be best to simply fade into the background, and hope that the people here would grow certain enough to relax their guard and allow Bakura a chance to explore the strange magics of this place further.

The magic – that was another problem. He could still use his magic – he had made sure of that earlier – but to use the magics that he had come to rely on in Ryou's day were he had to reach through the barrier between the worlds. He didn't even know how he did it. If he knew, then he could use that knowledge to find a way back. Instead, he found that reaching through the barrier between this world and the Shadow Realm came to him as naturally as breaching the wall from his world had. The magics that he had used in Egypt were still open to him, and for those he could simply draw on the latent energy in this world, but he didn't know what the consequences of reaching to his own world from this one would be. He would have to give up using Shadow magic and rely on his own innate talent while he was here, he decided. It would be safest, and much as it galled him, while he was in this strange place it was best to be cautious.

For allies he had only Ryou and Anzu, both of whom had turned to him, as being the one who knew most about magic, to solve their problems for them. It was strange, but in a way he was enjoying being here. Having something productive to do rather than merely thinking up new ways to kill Atemu and gain his puzzle had woken him up out of the unthinking daze he had been in ever since Zoku had been destroyed in the memory game he had played with the Pharaoh. Zoku's destruction had left him able to be clearly himself for the first time he could remember, but it had been such a shock to him that he hadn't actively reacted to it. Nothing had changed.

Now, Bakura thought, everything had changed: the world, the situation, everything. Having Ryou and Anzu relying on him was a strange feeling, but it felt... good, somehow. Fighting the Pharaoh had never brought him that strange, warm feeling that he got when they looked to him with trusting eyes, believing that he could make everything right again.

Well, he would try. This was a new place, and perhaps it would become a new beginning for him. The old mage seemed as if he would be sympathetic once the language barrier had been overcome, and perhaps the dwarf could be an ally also. It all depended on what he did now. When Bakura turned his attention once more to seeing the real world through Ryou's eyes a tiny smile brightened his face.


	7. Chapter 7

Aragorn wished glumly that it had been anyone else who was with Théoden when the news was broached to him. The Lord of the Mark had not been happy to hear that yet another wizard was meddling in his affairs, even if all that this unknown had done was to send two children to spy on him. So now they were delaying their ride to Isengard yet further so that these children could be questioned.

One hand went to his sword, fingering the hilt lovingly. It had not been so long, as he reckoned time that the sword which had served him so well in this battle had been merely shards. Now that it had been repaired, it seemed that everything had changed. The hobbits had begun taking interest in the affairs of war, an elf and a dwarf had become firm friends, Gandalf had died and been sent back to them, and now children had been dragged into battle.

He did not agree with Théoden that these children – whoever they were – had been sent by the enemy. Children had no place in a battlefield, and if one of their enemies, whether it be Saruman or Sauron himself, had placed them there, then it could only have been to demoralize the men who might have killed them, thinking them to be orcs, and only later finding that they were merely children.

Sighing, he strode up to the men who had brought the two children in. He asked his questions quickly, and received concise, simple answers. The two seemed to be about fifteen years of age. One of these was certainly human, the other's race was uncertain. No, they had not made any effort to instigate violence. In fact, they had been hiding from the orcs when the party found them. Yes, their garb was strange. The colors alone made their garments worth a king's ransom. Yes, he could speak to them if he wished. The guards on their door were there to keep them in, not to keep others out.

He nodded, satisfied, and headed off in the direction of the strangers Gimli had found. After all this fuss about them, he had become curious. Nodding pleasantly to the guards, he waited for them to unlock the door and stepped inside. He was greeted by the sight of two heads, one brown and one white, bent together over something that had been placed on the center of the bed.

"Pardon the intrusion," he said softly, knowing that they couldn't understand him, but observing the rituals out of courtesy nonetheless. He stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him, hearing the latch click. It seemed overmuch trouble for two such young ones, especially as he looked into the sweet, open faces turned toward him. Evidently he had startled them.

The two looked at each other for a moment, and then calmly began picking up the small sheets of parchment that they had been playing with, slipping them into pockets in their clothing. The girl said something softly, in a language that he did not know, but it sounded like a greeting. The boy's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Aragorn, but he repeated the greeting easily enough, giving Aragorn a short bow of respect.

The ranger blinked. Did they know who he was, or was this just a courtesy among their folk. After a moment, he decided that it must be an ordinary greeting, so he tentatively repeated what they had said, and offered a little bow of his own. Both children giggled softly, but smiled in such a way that it didn't feel uncomfortable. It was as if they were laughing at their inability to communicate, and inviting him to share in the joke.

Aragorn looked around their room, taking in the sparse furniture and the remains of a coarse meal in a glance. At least, if they could not make these children welcome, they were not harming them or stinting in giving them that which they had. Well, he thought resignedly, the children looked well enough, and he had things to attend to if they were to leave in the morning. With another small bow and a smile, he turned and called to the guards. The children were being looked after. Now he must turn his attention to Isengard.


	8. Chapter 8

Ryou sighed, drooping slightly, and letting his head fall into his hands. He felt like the new animal in the zoo. /Be thankful for it./ Bakura's thought trickled into his mind like water, fluid and changeable, drowning his own lesser thoughts in its flow. /You could be the evil creature that came here to eat their babies./ The amusement in that statement only heightened the sense of danger Bakura conveyed to him.

He was right. Ryou sighed, and pulled out his cards again. "Want to start over?" he asked Anzu tentatively.

"Yeah, sure," Anzu sighed, then giggled. "There isn't really much else to do, unless you want to keep sitting here trying to blow the door down."

Ryou blinked at her for a moment, and then laughed shakily. "I wasn't that bad!" His protest would have had more force if he hadn't been laughing as he said it. He watched interestedly as Anzu shuffled his deck before they switched decks again, and he pulled his first card. He admired the graceful way Anzu placed her cards. _Comes from being a dancer, I guess._ /Or a thief./ Bakura interjected, watching the play interestedly. /That's the way a good fighter moves. No wasted motion, just smooth, graceful, slow-looking movements. It's actually faster, but the economy of movement makes a good fighter look he – or she's moving in slow motion./

"Huh!" Anzu looked a question at him, and Ryou hurried to explain. "Bakura said that you move like a fighter."

Anzu laughed nervously. "Well, that's a surprise. I thought I moved like a dancer."

Ryou scratched his head nervously. "Uhn, yeah. I think it was meant as a compliment." He floundered mentally, reaching for something to say.

/The game/ Bakura prompted. _Oh, right. Thanks._ Ryou sent a wave of gratitude through their link, setting down a card. "I play the Haunted Mirror."

Fortunately, Anzu turned her attention to the game, giving up on the embarrassing line of questions. Ryou breathed a silent sigh of relief as he concentrated on strategy. He had been winning their last game when the man with the aura of respect had come in, but that didn't mean anything. A game of Duel Monsters wasn't won until it was over.

He wondered who the man was. He was almost certainly a leader of the community here. He was, Ryou thought, the first person here that was definitely in charge of something. The old man had seemed wise, but not the sort who ordered people around, and all the others had been following orders, not giving them. At least the man who was in charge didn't seem antagonistic.

Everyone here had been polite as far as Ryou could tell, but they hadn't stopped watching him as if he was the strangest thing they had ever seen. It didn't make sense. They didn't look at Anzu that way, and she was much prettier than he was. What was there about him that attracted attention? His thoughts went immediately to the Millennium Ring, but it was under his shirt against his chest as usual. The feel of the warming gold against his skin was comforting, and he would have noticed if it had been missing.

There! Ryou laughed triumphantly as he played his final card, taking Anzu's life points down to zero. Anzu made a face at him, and gathered up her cards.

"I'm not letting you get away with that!" She announced. "Best two out of three." She leaned over to switch cards, keeping her face determinedly cheerful. Ryou matched her expression, wondering despairingly whether they would ever get out of here, or whether they would sit here playing endless games of Duel Monsters until they died.


	9. Chapter 9

Gandalf escorted the two children to Minis Tirith and watched as a guard let them into the new room that had been prepared for them. He didn't miss the leer that the guard directed at the girl, however, and shot the man a stern glare. They were mere children and were not to be interfered with.

He sighed as he strode down the corridor to his meeting with Denethor. The children were no less of an enigma now than they had been when they were first found. He had taken more time to examine them while on the road, and the boy definitely had some sort of power, but it was a strange sort of magic and unlike anything he had ever felt. Neither of them felt evil to his heightened senses, but the boy was definitely on the darker side for a child. The white mage wondered sadly what had happened to the boy to make him feel so hardened inside.

It was an evil thing, what people did to their children at times. The carefully cultivated indifference that the boy showed at times, especially when confronted with scenes of violence, was such a direct contracts to his usual bubbly nature that it made Gandalf completely certain that something had happened to the boy to affect his mind. He should be grateful that it had made him withdrawn rather than violent, he supposed, but he could have dealt with violence as he had dealt with Théoden. He couldn't help the boy if every time he tried, reaching out with a soothing or sympathetic touch, the boy withdrew from him.

He felt so helpless to do anything with them. Maybe he'd find something out later, but until the war was over the mystery of the children would have to be postponed. If Sauron won then they would die, or at least he hoped they would. Living to undergo the Mordor-lords' torment would be much worse than the quick pain of dying, followed by the going on to the place Eru had set apart for them.

Perhaps the children would learn, hopefully they would survive, and if he was very lucky they would find some way to communicate while he fought the powers of Mordor, but he could not help them, not and fulfill his duties to the rest of the people. They were in a better position than most of the people of Gondor, if they but knew it. The two would be protected by the same guard who kept them secluded and confined, and nothing would be able to hurt them while they were in the care of Denethor.

Turning his mind to the war, Gandalf strove to renew his hope, but it was difficult. So many people were dying. There were so many lives that had been destroyed because of Sauron that whether they won or lost he was afraid that Middle Earth would never be the same again afterwards. The elves were fading, the wizards were either fading or being corrupted, the hobbits were, as always, barely aware of the rest of the world. He was afraid that the world would be turned over solely to men in the later days, and what they would do with that power was uncertain.

Men had always been capricious creatures. Eru had created them in such a way that while men were capable of great kindness and acts of mercy, that same man who had been a hero one minute could turn and strike a child the next and yet think no less of himself. It was so with all creatures, of course. People's capacity for self-deception had always astounded him, but it was more noticeable in men because of their short lifespan. If an elf turned to the darkness it happened over centuries; a man could be corrupted overnight.

Corruption. Gandalf's thoughts turned to Saruman's own corruption and subsequent betrayal. If there was one of the _palantíri_ remaining, could there not still be more? And if there were, indeed, more of the _palantíri _remaining in the world to what use had Sauron turned them. What dangers could be set loose upon the world if Sauron was given the means to communicate with and destroy the minds of those who stood against him?

Gandalf came back to himself at the sound of the double doors opening in front of him, and he set his shoulders, stepping into the room to confront Denethor, the Steward of Gondor.


	10. Chapter 10

Bakura glared at the door, imagining his hands wrapped around the guard's neck. Surprisingly, he felt Ryou's agreement. /Why/ Ryou's surprise echoed down their link, before his host sent him an embarrassed burst of feelings – love, anger, protectiveness, trust, and an edge of pain. It took Bakura a few moments to sort the confused mix out, but once he had, things fell into place.

/So./ His eyes narrowed further in concentration. /Did you know, my light, that our souls are intertwined in a way that cannot be changed/

/No./ Startled confusion echoed through his mind. /Yes. You told me something about that didn't you? You said that I could never get rid of you, because you were me and I was you./

/Yes./ Bakura sent back his pleasure and pride at Ryou's understanding. /Exactly. We are, in part, one person. The pharaoh and Yugi are the same. One soul was split into darkness and light, and those pieces each grew another half of a soul, so that they would not be broken anymore. So those parts of our souls that we did not create resonate with each other. If you feel something, I will also feel it, unless I am consciously blocking you out./

/What/ Mental eyes widened, and Bakura felt Ryou's unskilled effort to probe his mind. Disdain filtered through from his mind to Ryou's for a moment before he quickly suppressed it. Ryou gave him a confused apology, then returned to the subject at hand. /So you... like her too/

/I.../ Bakura trailed off, then opened his mind to Ryou's probe. He didn't know what he felt, really. He liked the girl, and definitely lusted after her, but was that really love? Ryou's gentle touch on his mind allowed him to see what his light saw, and he watched as his emotions filtered through his light's innocent mind and back to him.

"Well," he answered Anzu's question with a smirk. "I can think of a few things."

Both he and Ryou watched her carefully, wondering what her reaction to that would be. After a moment, Anzu's perplexed look vanished, to be replaced with a burning look that made Ryou whoop for joy inside his soul room.

Bakura smirked and leaned over, taking one of her hands in both of his as he leaned closer until his face was inches away from hers. "Can't you?" he breathed.

"Oh, yes," Anzu closed the gap between their faces, pressing her lips to his gently. He closed his eyes, feeling the sensation flood through the link, ending up double, even triple the pleasure that the simple sensation of her lips on his should have elicited. One arm went up hesitantly to wrap around her waist, and somewhere in the back of mind he questioned whether it had been his will or his light's which had moved it. It didn't matter, he decided mistily. This felt too nice for him to be worrying about something that really didn't matter at all.

Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, and, thus encouraged, he lifted his other arm, letting it join the first around Anzu's slim waist. Ryou closed their eyes, and Bakura felt a moment of irritation at not being able to see her face. That disappeared, though, as soon as he felt Anzu's arms tighten around him. A smile curved their lips against the dancer's, and the three souls basked in the love that filled the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Pippin had heard of these two, and had wanted to meet them ever since. Now standing in the doorway his curiosity bloomed and he rudely stared at them for some time without truly recognizing what he was doing. Offering a flustered apology upon realization their lack of reply reminded him, a jolt back to the here and now – that they couldn't, truly, communicate with one another. That would never do!

"Pippin!" Gandalf's call came clearly up the hall to where he stood in the makeshift cell. Turning reluctantly away he walked back out to more pressing duties.

"Pippin." Pippin intoned, pointing at himself. It sounded rather juvenile, but you had to start somewhere; he hoped they were not insulted. The girl seemed to pull the boy along through much of it Pippin noticed, the boy was somewhat odd.

"Mazaki Anzu," the girl replied pointing at herself. "Bakura Ryou." She added a moment later pointing to her male companion. The names where intriguing, and Pippin said them several times before he got what looked, he deciphered from watching her, was close enough.

Next he pointed to bread and water, essentials, the chamber pot, and the strange garments they were wearing. Much to Pippin's delight they spend most of the afternoon like this, going inch by inch over the cell saying everything.

The next day he had other guarding duties to attend to; disappointed, he spent his mental energy on thinking up other things to tell and ask them. This cheer raised the impending gloom that had been shadowing his mind since he had lost Merry; they were much lighter companions then Gandalf.

"We where?" it had taken more days then Anzu would like to count, but finally she had learned from this excited little man to ask this question.

"Minas Tirith." Pippin replied quickly, not so surprisingly this didn't ring any bells.

Pippin left jauntily for his bed, the hour was late, and they had made considerable progress over the past days. He wished that he could take them over the city, introduce them to his friends; but this Gandalf had strictly forbidden. He still wasn't sure what had happened to bring them here and wanted to take no chances.

"Leave when?" Anzu asked the next day, not sure how many days, even with Bakura and Ryou for companions, she could stand to stay in this chamber.

"Not long." Pippin replied hopefully. It was true; either they would escape, they would die, or Minas Tirith would hold against the army being sent against them and these poor children could walk freely once more. Whichever it was it would happen soon.

"He could not know, or be lying." Bakura muttered under his breath; all these broken, childish, sentences getting the better of him. He had drawn back to simply listen.

Pippin left gloomily that day. Osgiliath had fallen, and he did not foresee any days like this happening ever again. Somehow he felt he would never see Merry, Frodo, or Sam again ever. His heart and limbs were heavy with sadness, which his companions quickly caught, feeling something must be terribly wrong.

"Farewell." Pippin bid them both goodbyes; almost certain evil would devour all hope all too soon.


	12. Chapter 12

General Announcement: I apologize to the people who recently expressed a wish for me to update soon, but this story is done and neither Anei or myself have much of a wish to continue any further.

I am glad that someone could enjoy it, but she and I were beginning to feel that this was far from our best work and we moved on to our story Unfamiliar.


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